


Five Years Later

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, slightly nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teacher/Student.<br/>Prompted fic.<br/>Much angst. One slightly nsfw scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> I shall try to stop writing high school stories and/or screwing up the representation of the British educational system.

No matter how long Doctor John Smith glared at the lamppost, it wasn't helping him to forget why he was standing here, on a street corner, at two am, waiting for someone who was unlikely to show up. He tugged at the collar of his trenchcoat, staring up and down the dark street, wondering if it was time to give up and call it a night. It was pretty obvious she wasn't coming. After all, it had been five years since she promised. With a sigh he leaned back against the brick wall, he was giving her ten more minutes and then he was giving up and going home. Closing his eyes, he remembered...

It had been his first year of teaching at Deffry Vale High School and he had been far more fresh-eyed than the seniors slouched in their desks. He was almost five minutes into his introductory Physics speech (valiantly ignoring the bored stares he was getting) when the door opened and another student walked in. She was obviously embarrassed about being late, avoiding his glance and desperately looking for a seat in the back, but it was an over-crowded class and the only seat left was smack dab in the middle of the front row. It took him almost a solid minute to realize the kids were all looking at him expectantly because he had literally stopped speaking in the middle of a word. 

All his life he had been lauded for having a fantastic memory, but he didn't need it to remember hers. Rose Tyler. He enjoyed saying all three syllables, they flowed over his lips and tongue as easily as water. She kept her front row desk, her blonde hair often the only bright spot in his days of dealing with pimply-faced, acid-tongued teenagers. It didn't take more than a few days to realize that she had been placed in his advanced Physics class by accident, but by then it was too late; it would have taken an act of nature to make him report the mistake. Instead he figured out ways to make her work a little easier, pointedly ignoring his conscience when he fudged her grades or handed her a different test than the rest of the class.

She may not have belonged in his class, but she wasn't stupid and it didn't take too many weeks before she stayed after, glaring at him and demanding to know what he was up to. He opened and closed his mouth several times, a thousand inappropriate thoughts running through his head, before shrugging eloquently. She rolled her eyes, intent on heading for the office to report the mistake. The thought of her not sitting in his class was more than he could handle and before he could second-guess himself, he told her that he would be happy to tutor her if she would continue taking her class. She studied him, narrowing her eyes and then, miracle of all great miracles, agreed. 

They met after school three times a week - he made sure it was at a coffee shop, well in view of everyone - and it became his personal Purgatory. She was smart and funny and beautiful and charming and when her eyes lit up over learning a new concept, he had to force himself to take deep breaths to keep his voice from squeaking. He sternly kept his focus on Physics and tried not to jump when she brushed against his arm. After all, he was twenty-five and she was seventeen and he was a teacher and she was a student and anyway, they were studying Physics. 

By Christmas they had developed into, maybe not friends exactly, but definitely more than acquaintances. Their study sessions involved a lot less studying (she was really catching onto the concepts anyway) and a lot more chatting about random things - the Prime Minister's policies and whether the royal family had werewolf tendencies and the upcoming Olympics and how much everyone's dependence on technology was making them act like cybermen. She gave as good as she got, challenging his views and making him laugh and never hesitating to call him out when he was being rude.

Somewhere deep inside of him he knew he was falling for her, but he kept that part of him hidden away, determined to be the mentor and friend that his student deserved. For her part, well, he could never quite tell what she thought of him. She was quick to laugh away anything remotely personal and she never did seem to be dating anyone else and she would occasionally reach across the table to touch his arm or his hand. He generally tried not to dwell on it and if he spent forty-five minutes staring at jewelry before giving up and buying her a leather-bound journal for Christmas that was his business (he wore the scarf she knitted for him proudly).

The first time he ran into her outside of school or the coffee shop was completely by accident. He was browsing through his favorite bookstore, checking out their collection of antique first editions when he spotted a head of golden hair that he would recognize anywhere. He briefly considered turning tail and fleeing, but he waited too long or stared too hard because her head came up before he could make up his mind. She looked happy to see him, happily threading her arm through his and showing him the first edition Dickens she'd found. Afterwards, when he took her to buy an order of chips it was only because it was late and their lengthy conversation about the inspiration behind 'A Christmas Carol' had kept her from dinner.

The second time he ran into her was more or less by accident. He'd been headed to the store for his groceries when he saw her reclining under a tree in the park, nose in a book and he forgot about such mundane things as milk and eggs. He plopped down beside her, her bright smile completely worth the butterflies that had been attempting to devour him on the way over. Their chat turned into a walk which turned into an evening showing of the new science fiction flick and when she shyly rested her head on his shoulder, he didn't move for the rest of the film.

After that he ran into her all over town and it was never completely by accident or completely on purpose. Neither of them made specific plans, it was a wordless agreement to not make whatever this was into a Thing, but somehow he knew she was going to be taking a walk in the park on Sunday afternoons and she knew that he'd be running errands on Saturday mornings and if they happened to cross paths, well, so much the better. Sometimes he wondered why she spent all of her extra time with her teacher when she could be hanging out with her peers, but he never quite worked up the courage to ask and she never suggested that she wanted to be doing anything else.

As the senior dance grew closer John's heart sank further, certain she'd be telling him about whatever guy she was going with - she had quite a collection of admirers - and he'd have to smile through his teeth and tell her how happy he was for her, but the day got closer and closer and still she didn't say anything. One evening while they were sitting down by the pond absently throwing bread at the ducks, he couldn't take it any longer and subtly asked her if she was going. She gave a half-laugh and told him no, she didn't think she was going this year. He knew he shouldn't be as happy as he was, but his heart did a complicated dance at her words and he couldn't help a tiny smile, casually mentioning that the night of prom there was supposed to be a lunar eclipse and the top of the hill behind the art museum was the perfect place to see it. 

His services were not needed at the dance and he gathered blankets and nibbles and thought of absolutely nothing as he made his way to the top of the stargazing hill. She was already there, arms wrapped around her middle and smiling at him nervously. He spread out his blanket and buffet and her smile became more relaxed and she snuggled into his side, a second blanket drawn over their laps as if the warm spring night was an arctic gale. The lunar eclipse was spectacular, but the kiss she pressed to his lips far surpassed it, all plush lips and questing tongue and breathy sighs and he knew he'd never need any other form of sustenance.

Things were both more and less awkward following that night. They both knew that this Thing - it was definitely a Thing now - would end badly if it came into the public eye anytime soon. He'd lose his job and she'd have to deal with her mother, both equally terrifying prospects. There was no way to make it work, to pretend that it had started the moment of her graduation, and it was going to have to end very, very soon. But neither of them did a fantastic job of avoiding the other person and their late night walks grew longer and their goodnight kisses grew deeper and John knew that something was going to give.

It ended up being him, of course. It was the week of final exams and the stress of that combined with the knowledge that they had two more weeks before Rose graduated and she disappeared from his life, culminated one evening as he kissed her goodnight in the park. Her hands were holding on to his belt and when he pulled back, she chased after him, her lips and tongue and hands begging him not to leave. He pressed his forehead to hers, asking if this was what she wanted, did she know what she wanted? She kissed the words from his mouth and he groaned. It was a half block to his house and it was the longest half block of his life.

He asked her again and she answered him verbally and wordlessly all at once and he couldn't move at first, content to stare at her - hardly believing that this was happening. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her nose, both cheeks, meeting her lips, reveling in the feel of her tongue against his. She was pliant, but aggressive, telling him without words that she was right there with him, but she wasn't going to "lay back and think of England" either. When she rolled her hips against him, he groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder as he fought to control himself. It had been so long, he needed this, he needed them. Her nails left marks on his back and he bit down on her shoulder, both of them determined that this night not be easily forgotten. She came with his name on her lips and he followed after, shouting the name of his goddess to the four walls of his bedroom.

Afterwards he thought about taking her home, but she was snuggled into him, her head on his chest, her leg between his, their fingers intertwined and he could no more suggest she leave his bed as he could have suggested that she leave his class all those months prior. She pressed her lips to his sternum, mumbling that he'd better not forget this, better not forget them and he promised her that he couldn't because all he wanted in the world was a life with her, catching a taxi home at two am on a deserted street corner. He pretended he couldn't feel her tears on his chest and she didn't mention the catch in his voice.

The next few weeks before graduation sped by in a haze of final exams and final lectures and final goodbyes and he hardly saw her. The brief moments he would catch her gaze, she would hastily look away, but not before he saw that look in her eyes. He knew that look, it was the same one he saw every time he looked in the mirror. He called himself every class of fool for allowing this, for falling for his student, but it was too late to go back now.

Graduation Day should have been a happy occasion, but it felt more like a funeral procession and the announcement of "Rose Tyler!" sounded like the final nail in his coffin and he wanted nothing more than to curl up with a glass of whiskey and drink himself into oblivion. He managed the ceremony and the reception well enough, smiling in all the right places, but he headed out the door at the first available opportunity. He was halfway to his car when he heard his name being called.

He met her halfway, clutching her to his chest, and wondering how on earth he was supposed to breathe without her. They stood together, wrapped in each other's arms for a long time, but eventually she pulled back, kissing him gently, chastely, whispering through her tears that she loved him. He wanted to say it back but he couldn't, her name the only thing he could get out - the rest stuck in his throat, choking him with their intensity. She tried to smile at him and mostly failing, instead pressing a piece of paper in his hand before turning and leaving him, bereft, in the middle of the asphalt, tears running down his cheeks. 

That paper was why he was here, standing on the street corner outside of _their_ coffee shop because it was five years since the day she'd graduated and that's what she asked of him in their note, telling him that if he still cared, if he still wanted her, to be there on this date. If he still cared - he'd had a calendar on his bedside stand that marked down the days, the hours, the seconds. He'd gone out on a few dates with other woman, but they'd been all wrong; their hugs hadn't felt right, their hands hadn't fit with his, they didn't quite understand his jokes. 

He sighed again, turning his back to the deserted street and calling himself an idiot for even showing up. Of course she wouldn't be here, probably forgotten she'd even given him that note, probably married to some pretty boy with a kid by now, probably...he stopped short when he heard steps on the sidewalk. He turned - scared in case it wasn't her, equally scared in case it was - drinking in the sight of Rose Tyler at last. They both stood and stared and then they were running and she was in his arms and his lips were on his and he remembered what happiness tasted and smelled like. He stuttered as he whispered "I love you" and her "forever" was equally as shaky and for the first time they didn't have to pretend they didn't notice.


End file.
